Sum Of Our Parts: Cyan Trailer
by Team GBMA
Summary: The first of four 'Trailers' for an upcoming collaboration, meet Ciano Accardo, an old-fashioned kind of mobster, with the machine-gun to take on the world of crime within the underbelly of Remnant. Hang on to your wallets if you wish to proceed!


****(A/N) Hello, readers, BrambleStar14 here to introduce you to the very first preview for the upcoming collaboration fic between myself and three other RWBY writers, bringing you an entirely new, entirely AU look into the world of Remnant. Hopefully, we'll pull it off, but for now, we'll leave you with a short preview, the first in four 'trailers' that will introduce you to the characters you will hopefully invest your time into meeting and getting to know. While we're all excited to get started, we'll be working to a schedule that allows us to post an entire story arc over a period of time, before allowing ourselves a short break to write the next one. But hey, you'll have around twenty regular chapters at a time, and our cliffhangers won't be _too _harsh! Anyways, enough from me, here is the Cyan trailer for 'Sum Of Our Parts'. Enjoy, and we'll see you for the next one!****

****'Sum Of Our Parts'****

**Cyan Trailer**

**A Matter of Business**

****Written by Gumby1011****

There's a bar like it in every city. Not some bar for the social elite or the snobs looking for a swanky night out, that type of nightclub with a faint plastic sheen, drinks with silly little umbrellas, or a bassline heavy enough to crush a car. Nor was it that diviest of dives, the infamous hive of scum and villainy so often seen in so many gritty crime dramas, with the drinks made for stripping varnish off of boats or the bouncer built like a linebacker.

Ciano Accardo sat in a bar everybody flocked to simply because it was nice. Not flashy, not overly pretentious, not particularly better hidden than any other bar in the maze of a city that was Vale. A place that served quality drinks for good prices and offered a good place to chat. It was this, a most reliable source of intel, that Ciano was after the most. Not the drinks, you understand. He was only seventeen, and the barkeep was straight-laced about who he served, if not particularly choosy on who he let in. No, Ciano knew that the only way for a man to keep track of what was happening in the city was to listen to the people.

When you ask people to give information, they tended to lie or exaggerate. When they offered it among themselves, it was typically what they perceived to be the truth.

"So, you hear about what happened to Verdan's old place?" a gruff voice spoke up from over at the bar.

"Yeah, I did. Poor guy, hope he'll be able to recover." The barkeep replied, not looking up from the glass he was cleaning.

Ciano just looked down into his drink and effortlessly stifled the smirk that tempted him. Verdan had been a damn fool. No cameras, and a single silent alarm. The place had been easy enough to knock over, and it was a pretty decent score all around. Plenty of dust, plenty of Lien. If that fool businessman didn't even properly protect his assets, then what happened to him was his own doing. Ciano turned his attention to the younger couple sitting nearby.

"I'm telling you, I _can't _live on that street anymore!" the woman was saying. "That's the _second time _this month that there's been a shootout!"

"Baby, I understand, but you can't-"

"No, _you _can't expect me to stay there! Not with that blonde bastard prowling the streets-"

So. Sounded like Saffran was taking the last few raids on his crew to heart. _Good._ Ciano had him on the ropes, it would only be a matter of time before he gave up the territory to him. Both Saffran _and _that bleeding weasel of his… It was then that the door to the bar swung open, and for a second everybody went quiet. All eyes turned to the door. Two men stood there, both obviously fairly young. A few years older than Ciano, in fact. The blonde one was dressed in a black t-shirt under a grey zip-up hoodie with yellow trim. The other one had brownish-red hair, and was dressed in a tan button up shirt and a brown vest.

Rufous and Saffran.

You could call them the leaders of a gang. But then again, you could call any shmuck running a hotdog stand on the street a successful business owner. Ciano knew them for what they were: overconfident young pricks the big fish let hang around because they posed no real threat. But to him, they were a stepping stone to bigger and better things. And they'd just dropped themselves in his lap. Not that he could let them see that. The bar tentatively resumed it's idle chatter as the two stepped in and grabbed a seat. Meanwhile, a few seats over, the young man immediately agreed that he'd start looking for a new place.

Ciano could hear the two. They were muttering. About the best and quickest way they could get him into a conveniently dark alley, most likely. He decided it would be best to throw them a bone. They wouldn't have much longer to contemplate dealing with him, anyways. They'd have bigger problems. Much bigger problems than the few dead soldiers of theirs that Ciano had left in the street. They'd only been nuisances anyways, and there wasn't any other way to get the duo's attention really.

Positively primitive.

Ciano stood from his seat, straightened his cyan tie, and parted his aqua hair out of habit more than anything. It had looked perfectly fine regardless. Then he walked over to the coat rack by the door and took his own black suit jacket with the cyan pinstripes and the black fedora with the cyan ribbon and put them on. Then he walked out into the night air, ready to conduct the night's business.

He meandered his way through the streets of Vale, slowly making his way to the quieter, more isolated areas. Eventually he got to that familiar part of the city where the asphalt was cracked and riddled with potholes, and the brickwork of the buildings was cracked and riddled with bulletholes. Then Ciano slowed down and listened. He'd studied these two for about a month. They were good at keeping out of sight. Especially Saffran. He'd always been a wily bastard.

_Speaking of which._

The young man in the suit rolled to the side at the sound of rushing air, just before the hook of a crowbar flew through where his head had just been. Saffran landed with nary a sound, likely having leapt at him from the rooftops, his usual vector of approach. Ciano just took a deep breath and straightened his hat before beginning. "Quite an MO you've got there. A mean killing blow right out of the gates. I could use that. I'll give you half."

Saffran glared at Ciano, half livid, half utterly confused. "Half of…"

"Half of the profits you bring in to me, of course."

"Man, _screw you!" _Safran bellowed, collapsing his crowbar into a shotgun. Ciano immediately bolted down an alleyway, evading the blonde's opening blast. The weapon was powerful, leaving a gaping hole in the poor masonry where Ciano had just been. It was Safran's prized piece in his ill-gotten collection. Cyan drew his own weapon, which quickly unfolded into a submachinegun. Safran looked startled for a moment before leaping for cover.

That was the difference between Safran and Ciano: Safran charged into his troubles head first. Ciano bothered to memorized them first. He kept the pressure on, firing short, snappy bursts at the street-rat as he darted from cover to cover. "Come on out now, Saf. With the weapon on the ground and your hands up, of course. I just wanna talk."

Without any warning, Ciano's hat came flying off his head and was pinned to the wall by a throwing knife.

"_Shit!"_

The now-hatless man ducked to the side, dodging the two knives that followed. Rufous darted towards him, his vest unbuttoned and the knives lining the inside of it glinting moonlight. He'd always loved his knives, even if he was overconfident in his abilities with them. Still… Ciano stepped back as the criminal slashed wildly with a pair of knives, edging closer and closer until the blades cut jagged gashes out of his shirt and jacket.

He let out a cry, staggering back, clutching the gashes in his chest until Rufous drew in close. There was a smile of sadistic glee on his face. He leaned in to Cyan, and whispered. "I guess that'll teach you to cross us, huh?" He pulled back with his knife-

Only for Ciano to reach out and headbutt Rufous, his forehead and eyed now glowing cyan. The would-be killer howled and staggered back, and in one fluid motion Ciano stripped him of his vest and all the knives therein. A trained eye would see the kevlar vest showing beneath his slashed shirt. With a glance to where Safran had been, he saw the man had reloaded and was aiming at him. He immediately grabbed Rufous and held him like a human shield, the cyan glow shifting from his face to Rufous' entire body.

There was a sound like a pair of thunderstrikes, and Rufous cried out in pain.

"NO!" Safran shouted.

Ciano, on the other hand, just tossed the discarded criminal to the side. then he bent down and picked up his submachinegun, inspecting it for damage.

"You son of a BITCH!" Safran's shotgun turned back into a crowbar as he charged Ciano. But the man's practices reflexes swung into action, and he blocked the strike with his submachinegun. Only now it looked more like an industrial circular saw, the motor put-put-putting away. With a roar of machinery and a shower of sparks, the blade quickly cut through the combination weapon. Then Ciano simply kicked the blonde in the gut.

As he stood above the doubled-over criminal, Ciano began talking again. "That damn weasel of yours in going to be fine, Saf. No thanks to you." He walked over to the vest and brusquely kicked it away, just as Rufous began groaning again. Then he turned the saw back into it's gun form and aimed it at him. "Now are you going to stop throwing a fit, or am I going to have to discipline you again?"

There was the sound of a bruised ego and the wheels in Safran's mind turning a few moments before he replied. "Alright… Alright, what's the deal?"

Almost instantly Ciano's irritated frown turned to a friendly smirk. "Okay, that's what I like to hear, my friend!" He walked over to the wall where his hat still hung. "You two and your little friends are going to keep doing what you've always done. Lie, steal, cheat,the usual fare for little street-rats such as yourself. But now you're going to be sending half of your profits to several accounts to which I will give you the details in a few day's time." He took the knife out of the brickwork with a grating sound, examined the hat… Then he sighed and tossed it into a nearby can. "I'll be docking you for the clothes of mine you ruined by the way."

A few steps, and he was back in front of Safran again, forcing a small plastic card into his hand with a warm, plastic smile. "But hey, I'm a nice guy. Here's some cash to get that weapon of yours fixed. You're gonna need it. And tell ya what, you buy somethin' nice for that weasel of yours." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the unconscious figure. "He's just gonna cut himself on those knives. Then Ciano walked right by the young criminals and went out into the streets. The he paused and looked back. "Well? Don't let me detain you."

Safran just nodded quickly, scooped up his partner and his busted weapon, and bolted out into the night. And Ciano smiled.


End file.
